


Kissable Lips

by RingtailNightmare



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Love Bites, Mostly Fluff, Neck Kissing, pretty slow burn, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 20:11:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RingtailNightmare/pseuds/RingtailNightmare
Summary: It was an oversight on her part.It was planned to go to Mazelinka’s and ask for her assistance.Getting a product to reduce the discomfort of her wind-burnt lips? It was all planned.What was not planned was running into a certain elusive doctor during her visit.Thatwas the oversight.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, here we go. This is my first time writing something like this, so please be kind. :'D
> 
> The main character/apprentice here is my cis female OC Olivier, but it isn't too bogged down with anything descriptive or limiting, so if you'd rather insert your own character, that's fine too. It was just an idea that struck me after trying to find another misplaced chapstick. Yes, that's all it took. I had been itching to write something anyway, and well...here we are! Have some semi-slow burn fluffy love making, I guess. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
>  
> 
> ~Also, Chapter one is the build-up, just in case anyone wants to skip to the mildly spicy bits.

The hot winds from the desert blew harsher that week than they had in a while, and the strawberry-blonde magician’s apprentice noticed it first with the pains in her dry and cracking lips. Although she was not new to the world of potions brewing and tinctures, she was not as skilled in healing poultices and skin care as she would hope, and she was unsure of how to go about concocting a lip balm. However, there was one woman that knew her way around healing recipes, and Ollie was convinced that this woman had many more years of experience than she did.

The walk to Mazelinka’s was practiced by now. Nothing committed a location to memory faster than using it as shelter from guards on pursuit. The quaint little shack as short and stout as the hospitable owner sat as it always did, just a ways past the garden of statues and starstrand plants. Ollie knocked on the door, absentmindedly pulling her cracked lip between her teeth and tugging gently at the split skin as a hot wind whipped around her ankles. The door opened with a rattle, and Mazelinka looked up at her, the initial suspicion fading quickly into an amiable smile.

“Oh, hello, Olivier. That slippery boy isn’t here right now, if you were looking for him,” she offered, a hand resting on her hip as she rolled her eyes. Ollie couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, that’s not why I’m here, actually,” she said between chuckles, “I noticed that you know your way around healing and rejuvenating recipes, and I was wondering if you could help me with a problem. The winds have been strong and drying lately, you see, and my lips are feeling the effects.” She touched her bottom lip gently, drawing attention to the small split that had already slightly healed. “I had some lip salve from home that I always carried with me, but I gave it to my master before he left one morning, since he had been complaining about dry lips, and I haven’t seen it since.”

Mazelinka looked at the split in her lip and hummed out an acknowledgement. She turned on her heel and walked back into the house as she spoke, indicating that Ollie should follow. “I’ve made a few hand creams and skin salves in my day, dear. I’d love to help you,” she rambled as she pulled drawers and cabinet doors open. “Well, if I can find the right supplies, that is.” 

She searched for a while, and Ollie started to worry that she had bothered her for no reason, until she let out a small _aha!_ and shut the open doors and drawers triumphantly. She set out a small, empty glass container with a cork stopper, then threw a small lump of beeswax, a sprinkle of dried cinnamon and ginger, and a few drops of amber oil into a small bowl and mixed it with a thin, straight stick until it became a uniform consistency. Once it was all mixed, she uncorked the container and scooped it in, offering it to Ollie with a kind smile. 

Ollie dipped her pinky into the opening of the container, smearing it onto her lips. The taste and smell of the spices mixed with the lingering essence of honey in the beeswax and scent of the oil made for a pleasant balm for all of her senses. The pain from her cracked and aching lips numbed and gave way to a pleasant tingle from the cinnamon and ginger.

“It feels lovely, Mazelinka. Thank you,” she sighed in relief. The old woman huffed a laugh and handed her the cork stopper.

“Typically, I would use olive oil or some other natural oil, but that was the only one I had on hand at the moment. The lotus oil should help the pain, though. I use it to ease the ache in these old joints all the time. And from the way you always smell of spiced teas, I knew those spices would work well.” Just as the magician’s apprentice began to act on the assumption that she shouldn’t keep the old woman any longer, she waved for Ollie to take a seat, reaching for the teapot sitting in the hearth of low-burning coals and pouring her a cup. Not one to shrug off someone’s hospitality, Ollie thanked her and brought the cup to her lips, making herself comfortable on the three-legged chair at her table. “I’d be careful about using that lip balm around that boy, though. Lotus oil is not just a pain reliever, after all.”

Ollie looked up from her cup, arching a questioning brow. She was familiar with the properties of many herbal ingredients, but she had never used lotus oil before. She subconsciously leaned in, her mind racing with the possible interpretations of Mazelinka’s warning. The old woman offered her a knowing look, a sign that it was not anything of great danger that she worried about.

“Although it works wonders on my joint pain, in other circles it is used as meditation oil, and some even praise it as a somewhat potent aphrodisiac. And I know as well as you do just how much he can’t keep his hands off of you as it is, dear,” she chuckled, and although her tone was annoyed, her eyes showed fondness. Ollie felt heat rise to her face as she looked back down into her cup, rubbing her lips together nervously. Mazelinka shuffled about her house, throwing a batch of ingredients into the cauldron she’d placed on the hearth. Some things Ollie recognized—mugwort, feverfew, some silvery shavings of some kind of tree bark—while others were a mystery to her. The small house was cozy, Ollie noted, and she could understand why Julian would prefer refuge here. If the warmth and comfort of the house itself wasn’t enough, the motherly concern wrapped in the patient but honest spirit of its owner was certainly a draw. She sipped her tea in silence, watching with rapt curiosity as Mazelinka put together her brew.

“Oh well, I shouldn’t be surprised. You know what they say. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear,” Mazelinka grumbled suddenly, making Ollie jump and turn towards the door. Instead, from the window, a terribly familiar voice crooned.

“Oh, Mazelinka, you wound me,” Julian laughed, but his laughter cut off quickly. “O-oh, forgive me, I didn’t realize you had company. Perhaps I could have attempted coming through the door if I--” He stopped his nervous, rambling attempt at charm when he finally recognized who it was. “Ah, Ollie, my dear! Visiting Mazelinka without me? Are you two conspiring against me?” He offered that awful, cocky grin of his, making Ollie chuckle and shake her head.

“I only needed a lip salve, Julian. My lips have been dry and cracking lately. That’s all. No conspiring here,” she assured him, unable to stop herself from grinning. 

“Lip salve? You can do that?” he asked Mazelinka with a cocked brow. Mazelinka looked at him with mock-exhaustion painted on her face.

“Well, when you get to be my age, you have a few tricks hidden up your sleeves.”

“ _Your_ age? I have plenty of tricks up these sleeves already. Just imagine when I’m _your_ —yow!” Julian narrowly ducked the swing of a wooden spoon, laughing to himself. When did she even get the spoon in her hands? As soon as the auburn-headed trouble maker stepped in? Warmth spread through her chest as she watched them carry on, absently sipping the tea from her cup. 

The peace didn’t last very long for her, however. Her heart leapt into her throat as Julian suddenly strode over to her, looking down at her mouth and using a gloved thumb to gently brush at her bottom lip. “Ah, rough and hot winds lately. Don’t you know better than to face them unprotected, darling?” he mumbled as he softly tapped the healing split. He was fully in doctor mode at the moment, she noted, because he didn’t seem to notice how the sudden lack of distance between them made her face completely flush. Not that she didn’t appreciate the concern. 

A sudden *crack! and a yelp from Julian gave her room to breathe again. Julian rubbed his wrist and pouted in Mazelinka’s direction. “That’s enough of that. Doctor or not, you can treat someone better than that.” 

Julian gawked and gasped as if he had been more wounded than he was from the smack of the spoon. “I was only—! I just wanted to make sure she was okay. She said they were cracked, and you know...dehydration and windburn and all that,” he defended weakly, eventually trailing off as a small line of pink worked its way across his nose and cheeks. Now recovered from the sudden invasion of her space, Ollie let out an unrestrained laugh before covering her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Thank you for your concern, Doctor,” she said with extreme formality and a dip of her head, making the blush on his face only worsen. She took the last sip from her cup and placed it on Mazelinka’s table while Julian only squirmed and took a small step back towards the window-a small threat of retreat that he wouldn't truly act upon. For a few moments, only the bubbling of whatever Mazelinka was making permeated the silence.

“Bah!” Mazelinka broke the stillness as she tossed up her hands. “Get whatever you came for and get her out of here already,” she griped, smiling as she went about cleaning up her mixing tools from before. He ducked into the bedroom, the curtain swishing closed behind him, and Ollie shook her head in amused disbelief at how much that subtle suggestion spurred him. Warmth pooled in her chest, flattered by his eagerness. The only other time he ever moved so quickly was when he was running away from guards. Mazelinka sighed heavily and looked over her shoulder at the woman at her table. “Just remember that I warned you." 

The apprentice nodded and reapplied some of the balm from what she lost on the cup, once again admiring the pleasant sting as she rubbed her wind-burnt lips together. Julian was back in no time, offering Ollie his hand and a painfully rogueish grin. 

“Will you accompany me into town, milady?”

She smirked at his theatrics, taking the proffered hand and rising to her feet. “I was just going to be cleaning up the shop anyway,” she shrugged.

“Oh, you spoil me,” he purred. Mazelinka shuffled past him to poke at the smoldering coals beneath her cauldron, prodding him in the back with the wooden spoon she still hadn’t surrendered.

“Out!” she repeated, making the doctor and apprentice both duck out the door with a shared laugh. 

“Thanks again, Mazelinka! I’ll be careful!” Ollie called over her shoulder.

“Oh, it isn’t you I’m worried about, dear,” she called back, not bothering to look up from her task.

As they made their way down the street, Ollie’s hand resting comfortably in the crook of Julian’s elbow, he offered her a concerned look. She knew it was only a matter of time before Mazelinka’s passing comment piqued his curiosity. “What do you have to be careful about? Did she put something dangerous in that lip salve?”

She hummed and looked up at him with a sly grin. “Oh, you could say that.”

Julian’s lips formed a hard line. “Should I be concerned about your safety?”

“Julian. It’s from Mazelinka. Of course I’m safe,” she assured him, looking into his eye to calm his concerns. He shrugged and continued down the street, keeping her close. They ventured into his usual side of town, perusing the stands and chit-chatting about things that didn’t matter. It was the first time she didn’t feel the pressure of the responsibilities she had been given beating on her back. Instead, she simply enjoyed the afternoon with him. 

They stopped for a bite to eat as the sun began to dip in the sky. The restaurant they were walking past had tempted them with enticing smells, and it was all too mouthwatering to ignore. After fighting through the sting in her lips from the ignorant decision of ordering something spicy—much to the amusement of the doctor—she once again reapplied the balm to soothe the stinging as they left the food shop. He brought her down to the canal, sitting on the side with her to watch the sunset.

“Thanks for the outing, Julian.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her as close as possible.

“Anytime, my dear. The city is always more fun with you, anyway,” he admitted. She let the toe of her shoe touch the water, making swirls and ripples as it flowed by. “Careful. You never know what might swim up from the deep and drag you down,” he teased, shooting her a forged warning look.

She scoffed, elbowing him in the ribs. “This isn’t the castle moat. I don’t think any of our vampire friends would be lying in wait here.” She turned to look at him, tracing an admiring path up his pale features in the orange glow of the sunset. But when she reached his silver gaze, he was not looking her in the eye. Instead, his eye had drifted down to her lips, a light dusting of pink across his cheeks. She pursed her lips and smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him closer. “Is something…wrong?”

His gaze roved back up to her eyes, a guilty look flashing across his features. The eye contact didn’t last, though, and his eye darted to the side as he swallowed hard, clearing his throat before he spoke. 

“Is the something in that salve supposed to make your lips look…uh…f-fuller?” He said in a sheepish mumble. She tilted her head in surprise, the tips of her fingers touching her bottom lip. 

“Hmm, not intentionally, but perhaps the cinnamon and ginger have had that effect,” she cooed, licking her lips. “Or maybe it was the spicy food for dinner. Or maybe it’s just this lighting. Maybe you’re seeing what you want to see.” His gaze shot back down to her mouth again, his own bottom lip slipping between his teeth. “But the balm does taste spectacular, especially considering it was something Mazelinka just threw together.” She rubbed her lips together to emphasize her statement. “Like cinnamon and honey tea.” She saw his throat bob with a hard swallow, and a small whimper was just barely audible from his throat. Mazelinka had warned her, sure. But for some reason, he always made her feel reckless—made her feel like pushing every limit. His fingers sunk into her forearms before he suddenly pulled her to her feet and into a nearby alley, pressing her into the wall with his own body and carefully taking her lips with his so as not to exacerbate the split due to his own selfishness.

She hummed a laugh and wove her fingers into the hair at the base of his skull, letting her eyes slip shut as he devoured her mouth in an achingly slow kiss. He eventually sighed against her lips when they broke apart, licking his lips to taste the transferred balm with a breathy laugh. 

“You don’t play fair, my love,” he murmured as he pressed his forehead to hers. She twisted a lock of his hair around her finger and coiled her leg around his hip, pulling him closer while she peered into his hooded, silver eye.

“But isn’t that the way you like it?” she taunted, squeezing him as close to her body as she could. He let out a shaky breath, steadying himself against the alley wall with his hand. His other hand stroked down her side, gripping her hip and pressing in with his fingertips. She angled up to catch his mouth once more, meeting his needy tongue with her own as they came together again and again, growing more and more desperate with each kiss. She clawed at the buttons of his coat, working them open blindly while she tried to keep up with the desire smoldering in the pit of her stomach.

“Ollie,” he moaned against her ear as he kissed down her jaw, making her shudder. “What is the dangerous ingredient in that salve?” he rasped, his voice husky with need. She sighed as she gripped the back of his head, holding him to his task of nibbling on her neck. She tried to clear the haze of her longing for just a moment, underestimating the effect of the aphrodisiac on her own desires. 

“Lotus oil. She said she uses it as a topical for her joints as pain relief, but it’s also an…mm…an aphrodisiac,” she admitted, her sentence broken by a bite beneath her ear. He growled against her neck and tugged her earlobe with his teeth.

“That would explain a lot,” he breathed. “But I hope you know exactly how unnecessary the aphrodisiac is. You are already enough to drive me crazy on your own.” He sucked hard at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his hips rolling against hers to emphasize his point, making her moan out his name and tighten her grip on his skull. She could feel the proof of his arousal against her clothed heat, only making the coil in her gut spiral tighter. 

“Julian, wait, we aren’t anywhere near the shop. W-we can’t,” she pulled him away, gaining some semblance of reason when his lips parted from her neck for a moment. Julian’s jaw clenched, a stabilizing breath hissing through his teeth. 

“The Raven,” he rasped as he rested his head on her shoulder, swallowing thickly. “It’s not far. And it has a couple rooms on the second floor to rent, usually to sober up in. We…could see if there is one open.”

Her eyes widened at the unrestricted need in his voice. When he looked up, the lustful look in his eye made gooseflesh rise on every inch of her skin. “But only if you want this, love. Only if you want _me_ in that way.” A twinge of hurt flitted across his face, making her heart thump painfully. She took in his unkempt, hot and bothered appearance, coat open, chest exposed and heaving, hair a mess, and silver-ringed eye looking away from her in fear of rejection. She smiled through the sudden heartbreak she felt for him, cupping his cheeks and making him fix his gaze on hers.

“Julian, my dearest heart, I have never wanted anyone’s everything more than I want all of you." 


	2. Chapter 2

The walk to the Raven seethed with tension. They both tried to calm their fraying nerves and growing need, but every place that they touched seemed to burn. She stole a glance up at his profile as they crossed the threshold of the Rowdy Raven, swallowing hard at the slight flush that still sat on his features. His possessive grip on her waist loosened, and he turned to sit her down at a nearby table.

“Wait here,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. She nodded, feeling hyper-aware of every movement he made while he went to talk to the barkeep. She absentmindedly chewed her lip from her winding nerves, wincing when the bottom lip bled again. _That’s what you get for having this nervous tick,_ she scolded herself. Dipping her pinky into the balm that Mazelinka had made her, she paused only for a moment to laugh under her breath before swiping it over her lips. And after all that talk of being careful around him…

As she rubbed her lips together to soothe their irritation, she let her eyes wander up and down Julian’s physique as he made his way back to her. He gulped at the intensity of her inspection, watching her mouth and clenching his jaw.

“S-so, would you like a drink first?” he cleared his throat after his stutter, gaze darting to the bar as a blush crawled across his nose. He seemed so nervous. She hummed out in mock thought, rising to her feet and grabbing him by the collar. 

“I think we’ll have plenty of time for drinking later,” she whispered as she pulled him down to her level, pecking his lips and releasing his collar to slide her hand into his. A slow, steadying breath leaked out of his nose as his fingers tightly clamped between hers, setting a course for the stairs at a hurried pace. The tips of his ears progressively tinged red while he dragged her up the staircase, making giddy butterflies flutter in her stomach. Once they reached the landing, Julian dashed for the first room down the hall and swung the door open. 

She followed behind and closed it, turning the deadbolt, but she didn’t get the chance to turn around before his arms coiled around her, pressing up against her back while he pulled her hair free from its ties and kissed a slow line down her nape. She sighed, weaving her fingers into his hair blindly and tugging just enough to make his breath stutter. His eagerness made her giggle, and she pressed her hips backwards against his, grinding into him with a devilish look over her shoulder. He sighed and tightened his arms around her, one hand sliding down to press and rub just below her navel. 

She bit her lip and hummed out a low, restrained sound. She was right against the door, and despite the pleasurable haze already clouding her mind, she still didn’t want to be heard in the hallways if she could have any say in it. Taking matters into her own hands, she turned in his arms to face him, carding her fingers through his hair as she stared into his eye with a gentle smile. The flush of his face darkened as he held her gaze. 

“What is it?” he whispered, his eye hooded and dark. She leaned up until the tip of her nose brushed his. 

“I think I might love you, Doctor Devorak,” she admitted coyly, unable to wipe the grin that had been present throughout the entire evening off of her face. The honesty in her voice made a shiver visibly roll up his spine. He sucked in sharply, closing the distance between them in a needy, passionate kiss. A gloved hand cupped the back of her neck and pulled her into him. She melted in his arms, working the buttons of his coat open again as she moved her mouth with his. Once the coat had been opened, she ran her nails down his exposed chest, earning a groan that she gladly swallowed. Impatience sunk its hooks into her as she pushed the coat off his shoulders, doing her best to get it off of him. He only laughed against her lips, shedding the coat and gloves and discarding them by the door for later retrieval. His warm hands then cupped her cheeks in a tender caress, making a shudder roll down her spine. It was so rare to feel his hands without their gloves—damn the undeserved brand that kept her from them. A weak squeak of a sound betrayed her, revealing her need for air, but she didn’t care enough to break away just yet. He was too addicting—far more addicting than he probably knew. 

Suddenly, the door left her back, leaving her fully at his mercy while he pulled her backwards. He broke their kiss with a breathless chuckle once he reached his intended destination only a couple strides away.

“Well, that’s a relief. Because I’m afraid I’m terribly in love with _you,_ Olivier,” he mumbled against her lips, his voice already shades darker with desire. He spun her around and pushed her down, pressing her into the mattress he’d brought them to. Another deep, hungry kiss was placed on her lips before he kissed a line down her jaw, nipping and sucking red marks into her neck. She gasped as he sucked hard on her collarbone, his hands skating down her sides and resting on her hips. He kissed even lower, to the swell of her breast, and worked the low collar of her tunic down as he went. Roaming fingers skimmed under the hem of her shirt, pushing it up slowly. He paused in his ministrations, looking askance up at her.

“May I?” he purred, an almost-smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. She nodded, arching up so he could strip the garment for her before tossing it aside. She fought the bashfulness that pressed at the back of her mind, sitting up and pressing a palm against the V of exposed skin that peeked through his tunic.

“But only if you do the same.” She tugged at the white fabric to emphasize her statement. He complied, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside as well. She bit her bottom lip at the sight, feeling her blush heat all the way down to her collarbones. He laid her back down, continuing where he left off. She fought the giggle rising within her from the feeling of his chest hair against her naked torso, a feeling she wasn’t used to, but the giggle died out for another moan as he took one breast in his mouth, squeezing the other while his thumb rolled her pebbled nipple. Her hips bucked up against him without her consent, making him stop and chuckle. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” he teased. She arched her brow and pressed up quickly with her hip, flipping him before he could protest. While he watched her with a wide eye, she slid her hips down to align with his, slowly grinding into him. She grinned down at him while he let his eye close and groaned, his hands flying to her hips and pressing into them hard enough to leave marks. 

“I’m not the only one.”

She kissed him fiercely, her tongue sliding into his mouth and tangling with his as her nails left long, red trails down his chest. She nibbled his bottom lip, never ceasing her grinding, and pressed her chest to his. 

He whined, his breath ragged. She bit hard beneath the curve of his jaw, sucking and nibbling until a deep red mark remained. A shame it wouldn’t last. She continued to leave dark love bites down his neck and on his chest, continuing to score him with her nails on his abdomen all the while. A thought taunted her in the back of her mind, and she was in no place to stifle her curiosity. Without warning, she sunk her teeth deep into the angle of his hip, making him gasp and hardly restrain the sudden jump of his hips. 

“O-Ollie,” he swallowed, weaving his fingers through her hair and giving her a conflicted look. Passion and need swirled and wrestled with concern in the blown-black pupil. Did he think she didn’t want to indulge him in this way, perhaps? She offered him a mischievous grin to reassure him as she moved further down and placed a kiss on the straining bulge in his pants, making him hiss and tighten his grip in her hair. Her fingers worked his pants open, freeing his arousal from its tight confines. Any tension in his body melted away as she slowly took the tip into her mouth, her hand coiling around the base and starting a slow, punishing pace.

“ _Shit,_ ” He bit out with a groan, the hand in her hair trembling while he pushed back his own locks with the other, his eye screwing shut. She hummed as she bobbed her head, taking in as much of him as she could. It didn't take much before he pulled her hair hard, trying to pry her off of him. Afraid she had done something wrong, she stopped and looked up. His chest, flushed and love-bitten, heaved as he tried to compose himself. “As much as I truly love what you’re doing, dear, I don’t think I would last long at this rate, and there’s so much more I want to do,” he warned, need dripping from his voice. She felt her blush deepen, crawling back on top of him and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Well, then by all means, Doctor, show me what you would rather do,” she muttered in his ear, tugging at the earlobe. With a soft grunt, he suddenly had her pinned beneath him again. He dove fully into her neck, leaving his own love-bites—ones that would actually last—as his knee rubbed between her legs, making her arch into him with a cry, her hands gripping and clawing at his shoulders. White hot desire coursed through her, and she could see it reflected in his gaze. For all the teasing she put up, she needed him. Her body quivered in anticipation as he loosened the tie of her belt, sliding her pants and undergarments off in one quick motion. He sat up and took in her naked form, biting his lip and groaning as his gaze wandered further and further down. 

“You’re beautiful,” he rasped, pushing the hair from her face and placing a barrage of kisses on her lips. Her arms coiled around his neck to hold him against her needy mouth as she clumsily attempted to use her feet to push down his already-unbuttoned pants, making him laugh into their kiss. “Alright, alright,” he mumbled against her lips, sliding out of his last garments to appease her. She snorted a small laugh and wove her fingers into his hair. 

“I love you,” she repeated, making him press his forehead against hers. 

“I love you, too,” he assured her, letting his hand skate down her stomach, near where she ached for him. He let his middle finger slide into her wet heat, stroking the length once before plunging into her. His thumb pressed against her clit, rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves slowly as his middle finger thrust inside her. He leaned down to kiss her with soft affection, a terrible juxtaposition of the sweet torture from his hand. When he parted her lips with his tongue and wrestled with hers, he added another finger and scissored them inside of her.

“Ju…lian,” she groaned, breaking their kiss to gasp as she arched against him more. He chuckled softly, reassuring her with a soft kiss against her jaw. 

“May I be selfish, my love?” he mumbled, looking down at her. She tried to form words, but could only manage a nod through her fog of desire while his fingers spread and worked her needy heat.

“Call my name,” he whispered. She arched her brow as she drew short breaths. 

“Ju--” she started, but he shook his head. 

“Not that one, love. Come on... I know you know it,” he coaxed, almost begging. He then curled the fingers that were taunting her, pressing into a spot that made her see stars.

“I-Ilya,” she gasped. He didn’t let her lips close around the last sound of his name before he drove his tongue into her mouth once more, removing his fingers and entering her to the hilt in a single moment. She panted out a moan into his mouth, and he responded with a pleasured purr of his own, his breath suddenly very shallow. He pulled out and pressed back in gradually to help her get used to him. He could try to be more patient, but it was too much to just sit still; slow, easy thrusts were the extent of his self-control.

He cursed under his breath, biting the juncture of her shoulder as another moan rolled from his throat. He wanted nothing more than to chase his ecstasy by ravaging her, but he would only hate himself if he hurt her on their first time together. She dug her nails into his shoulders, spurring him to shallowly thrust into her again, against his fragile semblance of control.

“Ilya, move faster. Faster, _please,_ ” she sobbed, her voice thick and husky with her need for him. He shivered at the sound of his name, so desperate on her tongue, pressing a kiss where he had bitten her to hold onto his control. 

He obeyed her desperate plea, fingers curling around her knee and pushing it up to rest on his hip. He pulled back and snapped forward quickly this time, making her cling to his shoulders as he set a fast pace. She cried out for him, only making him hum out an approving and needy sound in response, her name tumbling from his lips again and again. 

It didn’t take long for either of them to reach their limit. Too much longing had built between them to allow anything more long-lasting. Julian had lowered himself to the bed beside her, staring into her glossy, passion-glazed eyes, and in them he saw so much--safety, comfort, _acceptance_. She smiled and cradled his cheek with her hand, pulling him closer to press a chaste kiss to his mouth. He returned her smile with one of his own and coiled his arms around her. He pulled her close to his chest, tucking her head under his chin. 

“You’re…” he started, then stopped. What was she? How could he possibly put it into words?

“I’m…?” she prompted with a small giggle, rubbing small, slow circles into his back.

“You’re incredible. _More_ than incredible. How did I manage to capture the affections of someone like you?” he entreated her, squeezing her tighter, like she might disappear if he let her go for only a moment.

“I would say the same thing about you, Ilya,” she mumbled. He huffed out a single laugh, a sound of self-deprecation. Her brows knitted in frustration; she pinched him lightly, making him grumble and squirm. “I mean it. And if you truly think so highly of me, you should trust me when I tell you that you are definitely worth the affection.” He only smoothed her hair in response, a sigh escaping him. They lay like that in silence, basking in each other’s warmth for a time before a terrible thought rose in the back of Julian’s mind.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time, Ollie,” he confessed, “I hope you know that. It wasn’t—” He swallowed his embarrassment, feeling his face flush. “It wasn’t just the lotus oil.” He hadn’t even thought about how it must look to her. Yes, the aphrodisiac had done what it was expected to do, but it only supplemented the feeling that had been there already, that swirled in his guts and reminded him every time she was near. Her shoulders shook beneath his arms, and he pulled away from her enough to see her face, concern suddenly rising and closing around his throat. Was she upset? Did she think…? 

The look of poorly-contained laughter halted his frantic concerns in an instant. “I know that,” she said past a couple unchecked snickers. “I’ve wanted you for some time now, too. I never doubted your intentions.” She stroked his auburn locks, rubbing a thumb across the prominent cheekbone under his unpatched eye. He felt himself melt into her tender touch, feeling all of the dark and negative shadows in the back of his mind cower away. He was truly no match for her or the light she brought to him. With nothing else unsaid between them, she closed her eyes and nuzzled back into his chest, and he reached around and pulled the thin blanket from the foot of the bed over them. It wasn’t long before they both drifted off to sleep in that state, breaths mingling and limbs entangled.

 

The next morning, Julian cracked his eye open, feeling disoriented and numb from a peaceful, dreamless sleep. Where was he, again? He moved to roll onto his back, only to freeze when a small, sleepy sound of displeasure emanated from his side. He looked down to the woman nuzzled against him, feeling a rush of adoration spill through his chest as he remembered their fevered night together. He resigned himself to watching her sleep, too afraid to cut any moment with her short and too content to do anything else. Time didn’t exist in that moment to him; he wasn’t sure how long he watched her before her eyes fluttered open drowsily. She looked just as surprised and disoriented as he did at first, but a small smile took over when she saw him, stretching her limbs and using them to pull him close again, the groan from her stretch melting into a relaxed sigh.

“Good morning, my dear,” he muttered, pecking the end of her nose.

“I would say so, yes.” She pressed her own kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Want to take me up on that drink offer now?” he smirked. She snorted a laugh and lightly smacked his shoulder.

“It’s still morning, you reckless fool. Though, I suppose that hasn’t stopped you before.” She offered him a smug, playful look and he grinned and shook his head.

“Breakfast in town, then?” 

Her stomach growled, responding for her. “That sounds wonderful.” He nodded in agreement, happy that she approved of his plan. 

“By the way, do you have any kind of magic that can conceal blemishes?” he asked suggestively, pressing his fingertips into a few of the love bites spotting her neck and chest. Heat immediately rose to her face at his implications. She glanced down, noting the amount of deep red bruises that she could see just on her chest and shoulders and knowing it was only worse in places she _couldn’t_ see. The look of defeat on her face made Julian laugh louder than he intended, a nervous blush warming his cheeks as well. “I may have gotten a little carried away.”

Her face then twisted into a pout, and she mumbled, “it isn’t fair.” He arched a brow, an indication for her to elaborate. She looked away and sighed. “I wish...I want—ugh,” she buried her face in her hands, feeling the heat in her cheeks only worsen. He pulled her hands away, meeting her flustered gaze. “I wish I could see what I’d done to you, too,” she squeaked. 

Another amused chuckle made her cover her face again, feeling bashful for saying it aloud. 

“Come now, Ollie, so shy after all we’ve seen of each other?” he teased. She laughed sheepishly, and he pulled her hands away from her face again. He then laced his fingers through her hair and pulled her into the crook of his neck. “That just means you’ll need to replace them more often, hm?” he purred. She readily complied, kissing the column of his throat before gently nibbling and sucking the skin there, making a contented exhale spill from his lips. She rolled on top of him and continued her ministrations, increasing in fervor as one hand stroked down his chest and came to rest on his pec. She felt his throat bob with a hard swallow as he moved his unoccupied hand down her back and to her ass, squeezing firmly and pulling her hips against his, where his morning arousal still stood. This elicited a gasp from the woman above him, and she bit down harder in response, making a pleased sound rumble from his chest. Well, this was certainly not how he expected the morning to go. But then again, he couldn’t remember the last time—if ever—that he’d awoken with a lover in his arms the morning after. From the way she readily molded herself against him and sat back against his hips, he deduced one thing rather quickly, though...

Breakfast would have to wait.


End file.
